


A Day Off

by zombiegardener



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aka me, Crack, Don't Judge Me, Drinking, F/F, Humor, M/M, OOC characters, Song Parody, Underage Drinking, Unreliable Narrator, hopefully, how is that not a tag?, hunk is done with musical numbers, i'm not having a good week, implied sexual situations, musical numbers, not to be taken in any way seriously, philosophical discussion of good vs evil, probably, random 80s voltron references, so this is ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:47:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiegardener/pseuds/zombiegardener
Summary: It was a miserable day.  More than that, it was a miserable day everywhere in the universe all at once. It was the type of day for which one might be tempted to heap abuse on the nearest spirit/god/goddess/pantheon of choice.So, really, what else was there to do except go to a bar and discuss the nature of Good vs Evil with a random musical number thrown in for good measure?





	A Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> In my defense, I started college as a music theater major. I was raised on every musical in existence. It's kind of ridiculous. And I absolutely adore musical parodies. And ridiculousness. And this week is stupid.
> 
> So, this. This isn't actually new- I kind of reworked it from an older fic. And there are 80's Voltron references, because "Doom" is a heck of a lot easier to rhyme than "Galra". I mean, seriously. I was searching through files, and I kind of needed this. 
> 
> I may take it down tomorrow, but for the moment I'm in a what the quiznak sort of mood.

It was a miserable day. More than that, it was a miserable day everywhere in the universe all at once. It was the type of day for which one might be tempted to heap abuse on the nearest spirit/god/goddess/pantheon of choice. And, in this instance, one would be absolutely right to do so.

Even the gods need a day off once in a while, and there's something soothing about the way people hang out inside to avoid the pounding driving rain. Sure, there may still be violence galore, but no one's ever accused Those in Charge of being unable to turn a blind eye on their worshippers when there's something more interesting to do.

This was one of those days.

What the gods were doing on this particular day was fascinating, but is completely beyond the realm of this little scene. The point here was that on this particular day the never-ending war between a group of conquerors and the plucky yet frightening small group that opposed them was on temporary cruise control.

Why, you may ask? 

Don't. Just take it on faith. It's that way _because_ it's that way, and there's nothing else to consider. Sometimes Heroes and Villains, just like gods, need a day off.

Anyway, on this particular day said Heroes and Villains, along with an assortment of other minor characters of varying degrees of Good and Evil intent, could be found in a bar close to the edge of the universe. Where exactly the bar rested was as moot a point as what they were all doing there. They were there _because_ they were there. 

Life always flows more smoothly when you take these things on faith.

This was the state of things as the current Captain of Good- namely Keith, the current (at least for the moment) Black Paladin- made his way through a maze bodies in various states of repose in a darkened side room with a stack of nunville bottles clutched precariously to his chest. His appearance was greeted with a general cheer as a mad rush ensued to claim the alcohol. In roughly two seconds Keith found his hands completely empty and several articles of his clothes suspiciously rearranged as a byproduct of groping that had occurred during the melee. Violet eyes narrowing, Keith stalked across the scarred wood flooring and snatched his nunville out of Pidge's hands.

Pidge, amateur pool shark, glared back at him from across the pool table where she and Lance were currently creaming Shiro and Lotor. "Hey! Give that _back_!"

"Forget it, Pidge. Ever heard the phrase _contributing to the delinquency of a minor_?"

Pidge looked affronted. " _I'm_ a minor? You're what, eighteen?"

Lance snorted and nudged her out of the way with his pool cue. "You're like twelve. That's way worse."

"I'll have you know that by some cultural standards I'm practically ancient. I'd prove it but my Space Internet(TM) connection seems to have been strategically lost for convenience at the moment. So I guess you'll just have to take my word." She beamed as Keith rolled his eyes, then snatched Lance's nunville from the rickety tabletop as her partner lined up his shot.

Lance ignored her in favor of cleaning most of the remaining balls off the table in one shot. Shiro threw his pool cue down and stared at the table in disgust.

"That's it. I quit."

Lance and Pidge paused in the act of raking money across the table to smile at him sweetly. 

Shiro glared at them and turned a black look on his smirking partner. "And what the hell's up with you? Aren't you supposed to be cheating or something?"

"Don't look at me. I put my money on them." Lotor indicated Lance and Pidge with a nod of his head. "Besides, I don't cheat at pool. It's bad form."

Lance dropped down on the couch beside Keith and stole his boyfriend's nunville. Keith sighed in defeat and curled up against Lance's side. Lance smiled suggestively, took a drink, and gave Keith the bottle back.

In relationship terms, the above paragraph constitutes a Smart Move on both their parts. This type of behavior is usually observed in those with no desire to spend the night alone on the couch.

Pidge smiled at everyone, content with the universe in general, and went back to counting her money, the reason for the aforementioned contentment.

Shiro stared off into the distance for a moment, then shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense. If you're evil, then you're Evil. Why would cheating at pool be bad form?"

"It's a matter of _principles_. You have to pick your battles, so to speak."

"Huh." Shiro grabbed his own drink, stored high on a shelf safely out of Pidge's reach, and sat down on a stool. "But if you have principles, doesn't that mean that you're not completely evil?"

Pidge snorted. "Obviously. Complete evil would collapse in on itself. Think of chaos theory." Oblivious to the odd looks being directed her way, Pidge shoved her winnings in her pocket and sat down on the floor.

Shiro, rapidly falling out of his depth, took a deep drink.

Lotor shook his head. "No, there _is_ such a thing as complete Evil. I'm just not it. It's complicated."

Shiro finished his drink and decided he just couldn't let it go. "Since when does raping and pillaging and enslaving the populace of the Universe at Large not constitute Evil?"

"It's all a matter of prospective. I mean, many wouldn't consider you all completely Good, yet when presented in the proper light you can make yourselves look that way. Right?" Lotor glanced around, stopping as his eyes rested on the bits of Lance and Keith visible from the depths of the cushions. "My point exactly."

Pidge sighed and poked one of them in the leg. "Get a room already!"

Keith looked up and glared down at her. "We've got one. It's over there somewhere." One hand waved vaguely towards the back of the bar as Lance pulled his head back down. 

Lotor stared down at them critically. "See what I mean? Public indecency probably doesn't fall clearly into the Good category."

"All right, point made." Shiro took another drink to give himself a minute to firm up his next argument.

It was about that time that Hunk reappeared from the general vicinity of the dance floor with Shay in tow. "Hey guys. Game finally over?"

Shiro glared at him as Lotor and Pidge smiled smugly. 

Hunk smiled and walked over to drop down on the second sofa, pulling Shay with him through their linked hands. "I'll take that as a yes. So what's on the agenda?"

Pidge pointed at Shiro and Lotor. "They're having theological discussions on the nature of Good versus Evil."

Shiro dropped his empty bottle back on the pool table and turned back to Lotor. "This is stupid. I mean, Evil's evil. End of story. Everyone knows there are shades of gray, but it's the deed that's most important."

"But what about the _intent_ behind the deed?" Lotor dropped down on a stool next to Shiro. "Isn't meaning just as important as action? Isn't that what Good always preaches?"

"Right, but who can measure intent?"

Hunk stared at them both before glancing down at Pidge. Pidge shrugged. Hunk shook his head and pulled Pidge's empty nunville bottle out of her hands. "This is silly, guys. It's all the same unless you're recruiting."

Lotor looked offended. "Of course not. I don't _need_ to recruit. We always have plenty of willing converts, and you know we'll win in the end."

Pidge made a grab for the nunville bottle Keith had set on the floor before attacking Lance. Lance reached down and smacked her hand without diverting his attention away from Keith's throat. Glaring at everyone party to the apparent conspiracy to keep her sober, Pidge got to her feet. "Don't even start with the _good is always dumb_ theory. That doesn't hold water and you know it."

"Of course not. The problem is showmanship."

The three paying attention to the conversation blinked. 

Lotor nodded. "The side of good just expects people to buy into the dogma. Evil catches converts through showmanship. Sex sells, if you hadn't noticed, and sex continues to keep the attention of the common Galran." He glanced at his audience. "Or human. Whatever, it still works. Promises of happiness after death will only attract so many away from the promise of happiness in the here and now."

"But you can be good _and_ have sex in the here and now." Pidge smacked Lance's boot for emphasis. "So what does that do for your argument?"

Lance sat up, looking more than a little annoyed at the constant interruptions, and slapped Pidge on the back of the head. Keith hid a grin by taking a slug of nunville.

Shiro rolled his eyes at them. "Would it kill you to keep your hands off each other for thirty seconds? We're trying to concentrate here."

Lance slid down to the floor to sit against Keith's legs, expression halfway between exasperated and smug. "Fine, Space Dad. We'll be good. Now what's so damned important?"

Keith shot an amused look at Shiro and started running his fingers through Lance's hair. 

Shiro sighed. "Close enough." He turned back to Lotor. "I still don't buy the fact that people can ignore mass destruction just for sex."

Lotor snorted. "Of course not. That would be ridiculous."

Shiro brightened up a bit. "Good. Now we're getting somewhere-"

"That would require the proper marketing strategy."

Shiro blinked again as he tried to stop in midthought and work his mind around the concept. "What?"

"Marketing. It's all about PR. All the best PR people are agents of evil."

Shiro started to rub his temples as Pidge snickered.

Hunk shot her a Look and turned his attention to Lotor. "I think what he's asking is how exactly you can candy coat that level of Evil. I mean, everyone knows what your father's capable of. Fear has to be the primary motivator involved."

"Not if things are handled correctly." Lotor met four pairs of disbelieving and two pairs of generally impatient eyes. "It's just a matter of perspective. Even my dear father can be glossed over if one puts in the proper effort."

"Right." Shiro glanced around for a bottle of something stronger than beer. Pidge passed him a flask containing liquid of dubious origin. Screwing up his determination to take a drink, Shiro paused. "But..."

"Why don't I show you?"

Hunk suddenly realized that odd jazzy-sounding background music was being piped over the bar's stereo system. "Not another musical number. Please God, I've been good! I don't ask for much..." His eyes began darting around for avenues of escape as Lotor balanced on his stool with his arms outstretched and face upturned into the spotlight. 

Shay touched his hand, recapturing his attention, and stared up at him with shining woobly eyes. "Stay? For me?"

A whimper climbed out of Hunk's throat. "That's not _fair_!"

Lance eyed Lotor and climbed back on the couch next to Keith out of harm's way. Keith, a sucker for musical numbers, put an arm around his shoulders absently.

Lotor: [waving a cape that came from somewhere unknown over his shoulders and looking around very intently at his audience]  
 _Zarkon started out a humble hustler  
But always with a spark of cruelty  
Then one day a voice cried "Go forth Zarkon  
Force your will on society"_

Shiro snorted. "So he was hearing voices. I guess that explains quite a bit."

Lotor swirled the cloak and smiled magnanimously. "Of course. Most people hear voices. The voices say very important things."

"Sure."

Lotor ignored him as the music picked up tempo.

Lotor: [raising his arms into the spotlight]  
 _And the voice cried "Zarkon there's a million reasons  
Why you should blow these small-time dealin's  
Hit the skies Zarkon  
Spread the visions of gloom!  
Forge your own Empire with the Forces of Doom"_

Shiro shot him a confused look. "Doom?"

Lotor waved a hand. "Artistic license. You try to rhyme something with Galra."

Shaking his head, Lance leaned over and whispered in Keith's ear. "Would this be the same voice that convinced him that Haggar was a sexy babe?"

Keith shuddered. "Shh! I'm trying to listen!"

Lotor: [jumping from the stool to the pool table, leaning down to look everyone in the eye again, very intense]  
 _The Forces of Doom will never be beat  
It's too late when you see them coming to take to the street  
Can't hide in your bedroom  
Can't escape the heat  
Yes, the Forces of Doom will never be beat_

Hunk whimpered again. Shay patted his knee absently and continued to look enraptured, Balmarens not being known for their spontaneous musical numbers. 

Lotor produced a hat and a cane from hammerspace and proceeded to step through a small jazz number before once again striking a pose.

Lotor: _Zarkon spread terror through the galaxy  
Took a couple hostages from the Alliance there  
Blew his way through Altea then through Arus  
Till resistance grew in sleeping Voltron's lair_

Keith started snapping his fingers in time to the music. "Damn right."

Lance rolled his eyes at Shiro. Shiro gave him a horrified look right back and took another swig from Pidge's flask.

Lotor jumped down from the table, giving room to Coran, Haggar, Zethrid, Narti, Koba, the ghost of Sendak, Prorok, Haxis, a couple of Olkari, a lost-looking Arusian, and several Galran robots, all dressed in go-go boots and sporting jaunty feather boas, including a startled looking Koba.

All: [swirling in a complicated set of jazz steps]  
 _Zarkon was a new sensation  
Built a strong base of operation  
Ran a solid conglomeration  
From his fleet _

Keith, Pidge, and Shay, caught up in the spirit, joined the others on the pool table. Being a magic pool table, the added weight didn't even create a slight groan, unless you count the barely constrained mumbles about future counseling coming from Hunk's direction.

Everyone on the pool table: [snapping his or her fingers and dancing]  
 _The quintessence was like water flowing  
And the bombs were always blowing  
Keeping the resistance go-go-going  
Down below_

Shiro was looking a bit wild-eyed. "Oh my God..."

Hunk and Lance looked at each, sighed in defeat, and joined the others on the table.

Note that this is yet another example of a Smart Relationship Move.

All, along with the universal equivalent of the Rockettes and several drunks hanging around the bar with nothing better to do:  
 _The Forces of Doom will never be beat  
It's too late when you see them coming to take to the street  
Can't hide in your bedroom  
Can't escape the heat  
Yes, the Forces of Doom will never be beat_

Lotor: [over a repeat of the chorus]  
 _Clip your wings and fly to Daddy  
Take a dive and swim to Daddy  
Hit the floor and crawl to Daddy  
Fly, Dive, Swim to Daddy_

Shiro gave up, drained the flask, and let Lotor spin him around the dance floor followed by the laughter of the others. 

Gradually the music died away and, in the spirit of musical numbers everywhere, incidental and oddly dressed characters kindly disappeared.

Shiro sighed in defeat. "All right, so I guess it was kind of catchy."

Lotor smiled. "Yet another convert falls from the grace of the light." He paused to watch Lance and Keith, who appeared to have gotten distracted again on the trip from the pool table back to the couch. "Speaking of goodness and light, where's Allura?"

"She ran off to a love motel with Acxa and Ezor for the weekend." Hunk met Lotor's incredulous stare with an innocent look. "They mentioned something about the harem suite."

Lotor and Shiro froze, and then their expressions turned speculative. "Do you think the motel has cameras in the suites?"

Shiro stared back at him, eyes wide. "Excellent question." He turned to the youngest member of his team, who was leaning on the pool table. "Pidge..."

"Nope, no way, I'm out." She snatched back her flask and threaded through the rapidly emptying pool area.

Hunk sighed and took Shay's hand, pulling her firmly towards the door before someone got the urge to start singing again. Besides, Pidge was headed in the direction of the bar, and that possiblity practically screamed adult supervision.

Lotor stared for another minute, looking slightly lost. Shiro smiled slightly. "I could do something about helping you get over the disappointment."

Lotor looked at him in surprise. "What about the whole Good versus Evil thing?"

"Just don't bring it up until tomorrow and maybe I won't have to think about it."

"That doesn't make much sense." 

"It makes as much sense as anything else I've heard tonight. Why bring logic into this now?" Smiling a suddenly predatory smile, Shiro grabbed Lotor's hand and yanked him towards the stairs. Lotor grinned back, casting a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity/pantheon/whatever was in charge of today's respite.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by quiet moans, before a head peeked around the corner of the couch. "I think they're gone."

"Hmm?" A hand reached up to pull him down, but Keith rested on his elbows and regarded the man pinned to the floor beneath him.

"Really. I think we're finally alone."

"And?"

"I've never had sex on a pool table before."

There was a pause. "You're sure they're gone?"

"There's one way to find out." Gentle strains of music sounded. Keith stood up and pulled Lance to his feet. 

Keith: [very softly] _Bye-bye Miss American Pie_  
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry...

They both froze, but the bar remained silent. If there's a surer way to ensure that a bar is empty than a refrain from that song, society has yet to discover it.

"Yes!"

"Keith?"

Keith smiled as one hand pushed him down on the pool table. "What?"

"Shut up."

There was only silence as the stage faded to black.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, someone actually read this far?
> 
> I was going to make the song at the end a Taylor Swift reference, but I gave up, apparently.
> 
> Incidentally, the parodied song is _The Rhythm of LIfe_ from _Sweet Charity_ , which is a random example of why I always have to fight for control of our Echo.


End file.
